


On the Last Night of the World

by willowcrowned



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Julian and Asra have a talk, M/M, SOFT I TELL YOU, they're soft, this takes place in muriel's "the star' chapter right after they climb in to the hole together, very very background muriel/apprentice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcrowned/pseuds/willowcrowned
Summary: The night before they fight Vulgora, Julian and Asra talk about the past and the future. They try their best not to talk about the present.A missing scene from 'The Star' in Muriel's route.
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	On the Last Night of the World

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a little over an hour immediately after reading the new Muriel update. It is pure, self-indulgent dialogue. I have no excuses.
> 
> Title from the song from Miss Saigon. What can I say? It was thematically appropriate. (Well, if it's taken out of context.)

“It’s tighter than I remember,” Asra says, pressing himself against one of the walls of the Hole so Julian can get down the ladder. 

“Are you sure you haven’t grown?” Julian remarks flippantly, not so much climbing as tossing himself down. 

Asra smirks. “You’re right, I haven’t grown. You, on the other hand...” 

Julian sniffs exaggeratedly. “I happen to know that many people find my height attractive.” 

Asra laughs. “What, like that thief that flirted with you so you would help him grab the top-shelf stuff.” 

“That was years ago!” Julian colors slightly. “Besides, you would have done it too.” 

“Ah,” Asra smirks, “But I wouldn’t have fumbled and knocked over the whole stand at the last minute, and therein lies the difference.” 

Julian blushes further. “What— well—” 

He’s scrambling, Asra notes with satisfaction. He’s forgotten how fun flustering Julian can be. 

“You cheat at cards!” Julian finally bursts out. 

Asra smirks. “So do you.” 

Julian is at a loss for words. Realizing that Asra will always win their verbal sparring matches, he gives up on finding a suitable retort and simply sighs and flops on to the thin mattress. 

Asra lowers himself to sit next to Julian with his impossible catlike grace. He smiles gently. Julian notices the smile, and his eyes crinkle and lips quirk up fondly in habit. 

“Mazelinka will kill you if you get mud on her blankets,” Asra says, gesturing to Julian’s boots. 

“And just when I was beginning to like you again...” Julian shakes his head in mock horror. 

Asra grins, knowing there’s no real bite to the words. “Thank you for your help today.” 

Julian attempts to protest but Asra silences him with a look. “Really, you’ve been invaluable. I don’t know how we could even have had a chance without you.” 

“Well you know me,” Julian grins ruefully, “never could resist a good adventure.” 

“Or a lost cause.” Asra’s eyes are far off when Julian turns to look at him. 

“Do you really think we’ve already lost?” Julian’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. 

“No,” Asra says, turning back to look at Julian with his trademark mournful look. “Yes. I don’t know.” 

“No one ever does, really,” Julian says, shrugging nonchalantly. But he can’t hold up the act for long. The slight smirk drops from his face and his shoulders slump noticably. “Or so I’m told. I’m not used to this whole fighting for a cause thing.” He casts his eye down to look at his hands, as if the scars on them will give any sort of clarity. “It’s easier, I think, to fight for something you’re only pretending to believe in. All those times I played the dashing hero—and don’t say I wasn’t dashing, because there’s no way you could know— I was fighting for my own destruction. I’ve never had to worry about the result before. And it’s terrifying.” 

Julian chances a glance up at Asra. His lavender eyes have turned a murky indigo in the yellow lamplight as he stares off into the black nothingness of the shadows that are splayed across the wall. 

“I understand why you wanted to run away, now,” Julian says. 

Asra’s voice has lost its normal playful lilt when he repsonds. “I understand why you wanted to stay,” he says. “When you think you are doomed, it’s easier to throw yourself in to your own destruction with wild abandon. The waiting becomes the worst part.” 

Julian reaches out a hand and brings it to Asra’s shoulder. Asra freezes for a moment before accepting it and Julian cannot believe his eyes when Asra leans in to the touch. He had imagined this an impossible number of times after Asra had left, and yet he had never imagined it at all like this. Never had Asra’s own acceptance been so hesitant, never had the end of the world been hanging over their heads. Never had the gesture been one of simple comfort alone. Julian is surprised to realize that he likes it better this way. 

“We aren’t doomed,” Julian says softly. 

“You can’t be sure of that,” Asra replies, and his voice is laced with fear masked as anger. 

Julian shrugs. “No, I can’t. But what does it matter, really? We are bound here now by duty and by love.” He lingers on the final word. “They will be fine, Asra. Even if you can’t be the one to protect them, Muriel will make sure they are safe.” 

Asra knits his brow in confusion as he stares up at Julian. “Why do you assume I want to be the one to protect them? Why do you assume I’m not worried about Muriel?” 

“Because Muriel is massive, and we’ve both seen what he can do. But more importantly, you like to be the one protecting your love,” Julian says by way of explanation. “You always have.” His voice is steadier than he ever thought it could be. He has never been one to handle jealousy well. When he had figured it out that first time, during the plague, it had been nothing short of a massacre that ended with sloppy, drunken, sex, and the next morning Julian had woken up in the middle of a pile of empty whiskey bottles sporting a purple bruise, courtesy of Asra. 

“I know you, Asra. I know you like to be the most important person to the one you love. And they are— the one you love, that is. 

Asra’s gaze wanders back to the shadows on the wall. “I thought they were, once. Now... I don’t know. When they died, I was distraught. I thought there was no explanation for the grief but that I had been in love with them. Now... I think I just missed my friend.” He is silent for a moment before cocking his head so he can look up at Julian. “Let’s go to bed.” 

Asra kicks off his boots and lies down, beckoning for Julian to follow. There isn’t much space in the hole, so Julian finds himself having to curl up around Asra. 

“You can touch me, you know,” Asra says, noticing the way Julian has contorted himself to avoid touching everything but Asra’s calf. 

Julian says nothing in return, but does settle more comfortably against Asra, torso molding in to Asra’s back and nose nuzzling Asra’s ridiculously fluffy hair. He even goes so far as to place an arm over Asra. Asra, to his surprise, snuggles in to the touch. 

He’s been lonely, Julian realizes, unable to speak and laugh freely. Julian instinctively tightens his grip around Asra. Instead of blanching away, Asra hums in satisfaction at the touch. When Julian relaxes, Asra attempts to pull him even closer. Even though Asra can’t see it, Julian smiles sadly. 

“It’s not a crime to want a hug,” Julian murmurs. 

Asra lets out a short, sharp, laugh. “From who? One of my only friends abhors physical contact, or did until a few weeks ago, and the other is essentially my ward. I could not press either of them for one.” 

“Nevertheless,” Julian says, “there’s no crime in wanting one.” His voice is suddenly earnest. “You are not a bad person, Asra. Don’t deprive yourself of things you need because you feel you deserve it.” 

“Ilya, you’re a massive hypocrite,” he says, but his voice is warm. 

“Do as I say...” Julian responds. 

“...not as you do,” Asra finishes. Julian hears a soft huff that might almost be a chuckle come from him. “Perhaps you’re not entirely wrong.” 

“Of course not,” Julian scoffs, “I’m a doctor.” 

This time Asra chuckles for real. Julian joins in a moment later. For some reason, this makes Asra laugh even harder, which sets Julian off until they’re both laughing so hard they can feel the other shake. 

“Ilya?” Asra asks once he’s calmed down enough to speak. “May I ask a favor?” 

Julian hums in affirmation. 

“Would you pretend— just for tonight— that tomorrow isn’t happening.” Asra can hear his voice begin to shake. He takes another deep breath to steady himself, but a quaver still enters his voice when he says. “I’m scared, Ilya. I’m so, so scared.” 

Julian rubs his thumb comfortingly against Asra’s upper arm. “I know, love. I know.” 

Asra takes another deep, shuddering breath. 

“I am too,” Julian admits. “For once, I want to live. I just got Pasha back. I can’t lose her again. She deserves better.” He pauses. “I think I might even deserve better, too.” 

“You’re spending what could be your last night on earth comforting someone you once— quite accurately— called a heartless bastard.” Asra smiles a small smile, but it doesn’t diminish the sincerity of his words. “You truly are a uniquely loving person. You deserve to be happy.” 

“That’s the first time anyone has called me unique in a good way,” Julian mutters, thankful that Asra can’t see the blush staining his cheeks. 

Asra laughs. “Now that you mention it, I think I’ve only heard it used as the polite way of saying odd— at least when someone’s used it to describe you.” 

Julian grins, burying his face in Asra’s hair. The scent— lavender and sandalwood— is a familiar one. 

“We should try to sleep,” Julian says at long last. 

“Mmm,” Asra says. “Pull the covers up over us?” 

“Demanding.” The smile can be heard in Julian’s voice. 

“Don’t steal all the blankets,” Julian warns as he lies back down. 

“Me?” Asra stifles a yawn. “I would never.” 

Julian snorts. “Liar.” 

“You like me anyways,” Asra says, his words trailing off at the end. His breathing is soft, and Julian listens to it for a while before closing his eyes as well. 

Minutes later, Julian’s reply comes softly. “Yes. Yes, I do”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the lovely e.g.h. who is, as always, the love of my life and an excellent beta reader, and who was the person who initially recommended me 'The Arcana'.
> 
> I do love comments-- especially constructive criticism-- so if you feel at all inclined to leave one, please do. :D


End file.
